Conversation and Reflection
by YoungRL
Summary: The full summary is inside, I don't want to spoil anything for those of you who have not seen the full first season. This fic is from the 10-11:00PM episode.


Conversation and Reflection  
  
Disclaimer: I do not own 24, any of the characters, the dialogue, or the actions in this fic. I do own the fic, though, as well as the idea of the thoughts and emotions in it.  
  
Spoilers: The following takes place between 10 PM and 11 PM on the day of the California Presidential Primary. If you don't want to have anything spoiled, then don't read this. (And by the way, that dialogue doesn't belong to me, either.)  
  
Summary: This fic is in Andre's point of view. I like his character, even if he is a bad guy. I thought that it would be interesting to explore his thoughts in the scene where he tells Kim about Martina and how she died.  
  
And, lastly: *Please read and review this fic!!* I'm assuming you'll read it, anyway, if you've gotten this far. But please review. I want to know what you thought about this fic. If you have constructive criticism, please feel free to share it =]  
  
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I looked down at the cell phone I held in my hand, but my eyes didn't really see it. Taking a deep breath, I addressed the girl sitting, hands tied, a few feet away from me.  
  
"I had a sister once," I told Kimberly. My voice was quiet. Coupled with my slight accent, I wasn't sure if she could understand, but I continued anyway.  
  
"She was full of life-like you." I added. I was aware of her watching me from the corner of my eye. Maybe she could understand me after all.  
  
I looked up from my phone suddenly, now caught up in the idea of talking, although I wasn't sure why. I hadn't talked about Martina for a long, long time, and the memories always hurt. A lot of the time I couldn't bear them.  
  
"She was a photographer-took hundreds of pictures. I used to love looking at them." I said thoughtfully, smiling ever so slightly and not caring whether Kim was listening or not. "But I can't do that anymore." I added, not bothering to hide the bitterness that practically dripped from my words.  
  
I paused a moment, rocking slightly from foot to foot, sinking slightly back into the silence that had hung in the air before I had interrupted it. The lonely sound of a bell tolling in the harbor distantly reached my ears.  
  
"You know how she died?" I said, without hardly thinking. I turned slightly to look at Kim, now expecting her to listen and give an answer. "Has anyone told you?" I prompted.  
  
The girl shook her head slightly, staring at some point ahead of her, refusing to meet my eyes. She was either stubborn or afraid or both. I suppose I would be afraid, too, if I was her. I had almost killed her earlier, when my rage at her father and his involvement in my brother's death had carried me away.  
  
"Your father killed her." I said, letting her hear the anger and resentment in my voice.  
  
"My father would never kill innocent people." Kim said, her voice faltering a bit.  
  
"You wanted to know; now I'm telling you." I said, almost carelessly. I was trying to cover up the pain that had resurfaced. Why did I have to go digging up memories? They were things that meant nothing to the present or the future. Memories couldn't help you later. It was two years later, and the memory of my sister wasn't helping me, any.  
  
"I don't believe you." Kim shot back at me, interrupting my brief thoughts. Her voice was strong and loud in the quiet that had fallen once again.  
  
I walked over and stood in front of her. She looked at the ground, carefully not looking at me, as though she regretted speaking out against me.  
  
"Only said it was an accident." I stated. I paused for a moment. "But when a man goes halfway around the world to set off a bomb." Kim glanced up at me, as if horrified at hearing that that was what her father had done. "He's responsible for any accidents that result." I said, my eyes narrowing shrewdly at her.  
  
The girl before me took a deep breath and looked once more to the floor.  
  
"Has your father ever talked about his work? Hm?" I asked her, knowing the answer already. Maybe I was just trying to show her that her father was not the man she thought he was-not by far.  
  
She looked past me, pursing her lips and trying to keep the tears that welled up in her eyes from spilling down her cheeks.  
  
"About where he goes? And those long 'trips' overseas?" I knew I was hurting her, but I didn't care. Here was the daughter of the man that had killed people I loved and cared about. Why shouldn't she know some of the hurt I had been feeling for two years? Doubtless I would be feeling more pain through the years as the image of Alexis's empty eyes staring back up at my me and my father surfaced in my mind.  
  
Seeing she wouldn't answer I turned away scornfully. "'Course not." I said.  
  
"He can't." Kim said suddenly, her voice choked with the unshed tears that blinded her vision. I turned to look at her again.  
  
"Because he's a criminal." I said spitefully.  
  
"My father is a good man." Kim said through gritted teeth, her voice low in anger. Her steady, angry gaze almost unnerved me. I realized suddenly that Kimberly was a lot more like Martina than I had thought.  
  
I returned the gaze, but my eyes were sad and haunted-exactly how I felt at the moment, thinking again of Martina, and Alexis, too. My sister's face flashed in my mind, but it blinded me and it was almost as if it wasn't Kimberly sitting in front of me, but Martina.  
  
"Why are you doing this?" My sister's eyes seemed to ask. "Andre."  
  
"Our sister's dead, Andre." Alexis's voice rang in my ears. He had been alive only an hour before, and just that morning we had been sitting in a café, discussing our revenge. Everything had seemed indestructible, but here we were: my brother was dead, and Palmer was still alive, and so was Bauer and his family. Time was running out and everything seemed to be falling apart.  
  
I remembered what Kimberly had said, and I pulled myself up from my useless moment of reflection. "No." I said with a slight shake of my head. "He's not." Why couldn't she understand? Everything I had said was true.  
  
She looked at the ground and I turned and walked away, stopping a moment to mutter orders to the guard in Serbian.  
  
I went off to go see Father, hurting more than I let on. As I went, I sighed. He was the only family I had left.  
  
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I hope you liked this; I thought I did okay on it; it's one of the ones I like more than some of my other works. So, please review, and tell me what you thought. 


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